welkin

And anywhere would be a welkin, let Brittany Griner tell it.

“You could argue that without retroviruses you wouldn’t have mammals,” says Welkin Johnson, a virologist at Boston College.

I like Thornfield, its antiquity, its retirement, its old crow-trees and thorn-trees, its grey façade, and lines of dark windows reflecting that metal welkin: and yet how long have I abhorred the very thought of it, shunned it like a great plague-house?

It may be on stage rather than screen, but Lucy Kirkwood’s The Welkin, currently running at the National Theatre, also applies mordant humour to the anguishes and indignities of reproductive life.

He did well enough to win a spot in the graduate virology program at Harvard Medical School in Boston, where he worked under Welkin Johnson.